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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975306">bury me in satin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesorbet/pseuds/orangesorbet'>orangesorbet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>LOONA (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Grim Reapers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:41:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangesorbet/pseuds/orangesorbet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>yves is a grim reaper who asks far too many questions. kim jungeun lives far longer than she should have.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip, Kim Jiwoo | Chuu/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bury me in satin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title taken from the band perry's "if i die young"</p><p>a big thank you to my editor.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the sun rises with the bird’s song, a solitary chime soon to be echoed by a chorus of cries. with the emergence of light, yves retreats to the shadows. the scythe in her hand is held loosely by long, thin fingers and the black cloak she dons is draped across her back, the cloth unnaturally still despite the occasional wind that blows through the gaps of the buildings.</p><p>once the sun is fully in the sky, high above the lines of even the tallest building, the footsteps increase around her. bodies swarm, moving this way and that; yves watches from the corner of the building, hidden away from view.</p><p>she was used to this though. even if she were to stand in the middle of a crowded crosswalk, no one would see her – no one would stop to acknowledge her presence except to shudder and rush past. occasionally, the kind would stop to apologize, only to be greeted by the seemingly empty space her body occupied.</p><p>but today she isn’t invisible – at least not to one.</p><p>today, like yesterday and like the day before that, she is visible to one person.</p><p>the automatic lock turns, the sound of moving gears echo in the air. yves straightens her back, her scythe held rigidly against her body, its blade pointed downwards to avoid unintentional damage to a living soul.</p><p>“good morning, ms. reaper.”</p><p>kim jungeun, twenty-one, smiles at her from the foot of her door. her hair is tied in a high ponytail today, and her signature red lipstick shines under the strong light of day. </p><p>“good morning.”</p><p>“following me again?”</p><p>yves nods, “it is my job.”</p><p>“no other dead souls get your attention?”</p><p>“only at night.”</p><p>jungeun sighs. yves had learned from their first conversation that she shouldn’t share the intimate details of another’s death to the living – it upset them greatly.</p><p>“you sure you don’t want to follow anyone else?”</p><p>yves stares, unblinking, “i cannot.”</p><p>“yeah,” jungeun chuckles, though the sound is humorless. “i know.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>kim jungeun’s short life had come to an untimely end with a screech of tires.</p><p>it was a car crash that would end up on the news with the usual culprits: a drunk driver going far above the allowed speed and a college student who had been unlucky enough to have stood in his path.</p><p>yves had saw the whole thing. she had watched as jungeun was on the phone, talking animatedly to the person on the other end, unaware of the danger that sped her way. she had watched as the car lights, bright yellow and angry, drew unsteady figure-eights in the asphalt. she had heard the roar of the engine, the scream of rubber, and the unavoidable crunch of bone.</p><p>the crash was inevitable.</p><p>there had been only one casualty.</p><p>kim jungeun had died that night and the grim reaper was the only witness to her solitary death.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“jungeun!”</p><p>jungeun turns on her heels, waving to the figure that sped down the pavement towards her. yves retreats to her usual position on the grass, away from the trajectory of the running girl.</p><p>“hi, jiwoo,” despite the overlaid exasperation, affection is clear in jungeun’s greeting. “stop running, you’ll trip!”</p><p>“it’s fine, i got new shoes and they actually have some traction on them!”</p><p>jiwoo smiles, lips stretched wide to show all her teeth. jungeun, in response, beams back.</p><p>if yves were the shadows of the moon, then surely jiwoo was the lighted reflection. never had she experienced a life so vibrant, one shining so bright. yves takes another step back, afraid to taint such an existence with her presence.</p><p>kim jiwoo, unlike jungeun, had a very long life ahead of her.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>the day goes by as any other day: jungeun attends class, half of which she shares with jiwoo. she has lunch, then more classes. then jungeun waits at the end of the day for musical rehearsals to end – for jiwoo to finish practicing so they could walk home together.</p><p>yves mimics the steps jungeun takes, always a few feet behind. she follows her through the crowded hall of her university, turning sharply into a room when jungeun does, or sitting at the end of the table that jungeun decides to seat herself at. but while jungeun laughs, smiles, and talks, yves remains silent, alone in her solitary position of neither living nor dead.</p><p>it’s only when jiwoo waves goodbye that yves dares open her mouth.</p><p>“you have to say goodbye soon.”</p><p>jungeun continues waving though jiwoo’s back is turned to her, “i know.”</p><p>“it’s almost time.”</p><p>“yeah. it is, isn’t it?”</p><p>although it’s a question, yves decides not to answer. she has come to realize that some thoughts need no response.</p><p>jungeun turns on her heels, heading in the direction of her home. yves follows closely behind.</p><p>the rest of the walk is silent.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>the skid marks are burnt black against the road. yves walked across them carefully, steadily, towards the body of the kim jungeun.</p><p>yves had been prepared to do her task. she was to take the soul of the dead to the otherworld; just a small offering of flesh against the blade of her scythe, and kim jungeun would go to where she needed to go. that was what was supposed to happen.</p><p>that was what was supposed to happen.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“why did you save me?” jungeun speaks unprompted as they close in on her house. the lights are on inside, and shadowy figures move behind the closed curtains of the windows.</p><p>“you asked me to.”</p><p>“has no one asked you before?”</p><p>yves shakes her head, “no.”</p><p>“why not?”</p><p>yves doesn’t quite know.</p><p>“they just never have.”</p><p>disbelief is clear on jungeun’s face, but yves doesn’t have a proper response. the dead, some of whom are even younger than jungeun, and some much older, just know it is their time. the dead no longer have the energy to argue – no longer had the want to do so, and yves simply did not ask.</p><p>that wasn’t her job.</p><p>the mechanical whirl and the loud click of the lock signals the end of the conversation. jungeun walks up the few steps to her door and looks down at yves.</p><p>“good night, ms. reaper,” she says.</p><p>yves nods her head, “good night, jungeun.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>the grim reaper walks the streets at night. her bare feet hit the asphalt, but she feels nothing but the hardness of the ground. the blue of the moonlight hits her scythe, painting the blade effervescent silver.</p><p>tonight’s journey is a rather short one. melting into the shadows of the night, yves traverses into the next town over – one close enough to see the lights of jungeun’s neighborhood, but far enough that a coincidental meeting with her charge was unlikely.</p><p>at the end of her black asphalt path, a vigorously lighted entrance – yves can’t help but wonder if the lights are turned on for her arrival. the door is closed, but locks and bolts do nothing to keep her out; she reaches forward and enters the home.</p><p>her presence is signaled by the creak of the wooden stairs, silent footsteps punctuated by the groan of strained wood holding up the weight of the foreign phantom.</p><p>a lovely old lady waits at the top of the stairs, behind the bedroom door left ajar for her convenience.</p><p>“hello,” yves greets first – she always does.</p><p>the old lady turns, shifting her body to face yves. the wrinkles are her face are deep and plentiful, every line telling a tale of former happenings. had she had the time, she would have loved to sit and chat, but she had a job to do – she always had a job to do.</p><p>“hello,” the woman greets back, her eyes closing momentarily. “is it time?”</p><p>yves nods. her scythe is brought up to her shoulder, its blade faced away from the woman’s skin.</p><p>“yes.”</p><p>the woman lies on her back, her hands wrapped around each other as though she were sleeping – and she was. an eternal bliss – a wonderful paradise – a fiery torture; all were places yves heard of, but would never experience.</p><p>it simply was not her job.</p><p>yet yves wonders. for the first time, she wonders where the woman will go. had her old hands creased from the love she spread, or had they folded into themselves from the internal guilt of committed sin. would this woman, with her gentle façade and kind eyes, suffer for millennia to come or would she live her days in idyllic platitude?</p><p>a single question, one which would encompass all yves needs to know about this woman – about her own job, spills in her chest, up through her throat, and out her lips before she can stop herself.</p><p>“did you live a good life?”</p><p>the old woman shrugs.</p><p>“i lived a long one.”</p><p>yves doesn’t answer. </p><p>instead, she thinks of jungeun, with her short life. then, she thinks of jiwoo, with her long one.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>the woman readjusts her pillow, more out of habit than necessity. she lies down comfortably, eyes closing one last time.</p><p>“goodbye, ms. reaper.”</p><p>a smile is on her face.</p><p>yves bows her head as her blade enters the woman’s chest.</p><p>“goodbye.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>the morning is accompanied by a storm.</p><p>jungeun and jiwoo are together again, their heads knocking into one another as they watch a movie on jungeun’s small laptop screen. they’re giggling at something that yves can’t make out from where she’s standing outside.</p><p>the rain pitters and patters against the hood of her cloak, but she doesn’t feel anything except for the sliding sensation of water hitting ground.</p><p>yves looks through the window of the house, watching as jungeun’s lips curl into a smile – a big, goofy grin lined with pearly white teeth.</p><p>jungeun was selfish for wanting to live past what was supposed to be; her desire had manifested into a request and yves had simply fulfilled it.</p><p>but if she were to ask jungeun if she lived a good life, what would she say?</p><p>what could she say?</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>it’s midnight when jiwoo leaves to go home. the two linger at the door, drawing out the time, but neither say much. jungeun stays quiet, smiling, and jiwoo doesn’t press.</p><p>gazing at the ephemeral spark between them, yves averts her gaze and looks to the dancing clouds. she feels voyeuristic – her presence is unwanted, after all.</p><p>“she’s gone, you can talk if you want.”</p><p>jungeun breaks the silence first.</p><p>yves continues to stare at the cloudy sky.</p><p>“when will you tell her?”</p><p>jungeun sighs, “soon.”</p><p>“it’s almost time.”</p><p>“i know.”</p><p>a repeated conversation – the same question and answer.</p><p><em> soon</em>, jungeun always says, <em> soon. </em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>jungeun has three days left.</p><p>her saturday is spent at home, mainly with her family.</p><p>yves can hear boisterous conversations, the bouts of laughter, from her shadowy corner of the house. she can feel the ground shake as jungeun stomps around with mock indignation, and she can feel her shoulders slouch from the heavy weight of solitude in jungeun’s voice as she whispers her final good night.</p><p>perhaps, yves had made a mistake.</p><p>jungeun should have died that day, and yves should have pressed her blade deep into her heart.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>jungeun spends her sunday outside.</p><p>she spends it sprawled on the grass, her toes digging into the moist dirt that clump in between the space of her toes. long nails and their accompanying fingers graze the top of the grass, feeling the chill of this morning’s rain showers underneath her fingertips. the leaves above her sway, filtering the sunlight against spotted shadows.</p><p>yves watches from behind, the staff of her scythe pressed against her torso.</p><p>her own feet dig into the dirt, her toes pushing into the solid ground below. unlike the asphalt that resists any force, the soil parts like air.</p><p>“want to join?”</p><p>the invitation comes out of the blue. yves doesn’t quite know what to do except stare silently.</p><p>jungeun lifts herself up by the elbows, pushing bare skin against earth. she waves her hand, beckoning for yves to join her on the ground. a smile, one that yves has only ever seen in the presence of jiwoo, graces jungeun’s face.</p><p>“well?”</p><p>yves makes her way over, cautiously lowering herself onto the ground.</p><p>“isn’t it nice?”</p><p>was this another question without an answer? yves brushed her hands across the grass.</p><p>“yes?”</p><p>jungeun laughs.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“is jiwoo the reason you stayed?”</p><p>another question with an obvious answer.</p><p>“yes.”</p><p>yves nods, her unblinking eyes trained to a single leaf straight above.</p><p>“you love her.”</p><p>it’s a statement, but jungeun still answers.</p><p>“yeah.”</p><p>“she’s going to live a long life.”</p><p>jungeun goes quiet.</p><p>yves wonders if she’s said the wrong thing again.</p><p>“that’s good.”</p><p>jungeun’s voice is scratchy and low, the sound almost lost in the buzz of the cicadas.</p><p>yves nods. her fingers dig into the ground, just a little deeper, and for the first time, she feels the weight of gravity pressing onto her chest.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>today is jungeun’s last day.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>she follows jungeun around, like a shadow attached to her heels.</p><p>jiwoo comes barreling down the sidewalk, almost as though she wants jungeun to admonish her. they hug and laugh – they chat until they go to class, and chat during too.</p><p>they talk and talk and talk; nothing more, nothing less.</p><p>yves listens and watches, yet she’s preoccupied with her thoughts.</p><p>today is jungeun’s last day.</p><p>tomorrow, she would be moving on to yet another living soul – one just as vibrant as jungeun, one filled with their own regrets and wants, of their own memories, both happy and sad.</p><p>but jungeun would cease to exist.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>school passes as it always does. the two separate at the bus stop. jiwoo hops onto the bus while jungeun stays behind to watch her go. jiwoo sticks her face against the glass, making silly faces at jungeun who scolds her while laughing.</p><p>“bye, jungeun!” jiwoo says, sticking her hand out the window to wave energetically, “see you tomorrow!”</p><p>jungeun smiles but doesn’t respond.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“did you tell her?”</p><p>they’re sitting at a park bench, only a few minutes’ walk from jungeun’s home. the milky sky of pink and orange melt together above them as the sun's last rays quickly turn black.</p><p>jungeun has a pebble in her hand. she brushes off the clumped dirt with her thumb as the rest of her fingers work to twirl it above her palm.</p><p>“no.”</p><p>“why?”</p><p>jungeun gives a watery smile, “she has a long life ahead.”</p><p>the rock stills as jungeun clenches her fist. “she gets to live for a long time, and i die tomorrow. but if i tell her, she’ll have to live with that for the rest of her long, long life.”</p><p>jungeun rears her arm, launching the rock as far as she could.</p><p>“the rest of her long, <em> long </em> fucking life.”<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>nightfall encroaches much too quick. the red in the sky dissipates against the flicker of the stars.</p><p>“what happens next?” jungeun asks, her voice much too quiet for the living to hear.</p><p>yves shakes her head. “i don’t know.”</p><p>“is it painful?”</p><p>jungeun stares dubiously at her scythe. yves shifts it to the side, hiding the sharp blade from suspicious eyes.</p><p>“i don’t think so.”</p><p>“what do you know?”</p><p>yves feels a breath stutter in her throat. “nothing.”</p><p>“nothing,” jungeun repeat. “nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>in ten minutes, jungeun will die.</p><p>and yet, she and the grim reaper sit side-by-side on a park bench in the middle of town.</p><p> </p><p>jungeun will die with the same regrets, with the same words still left unspoken.</p><p>jiwoo will live a long life without ever hearing those words.</p><p>and only the grim reaper would continue with the knowledge of it all.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>“would you like to live?”</p><p>two minutes are left.</p><p>jungeun looks at her with red eyes. the tears that fall down her cheek are illuminated by the moon itself.</p><p>“no.”</p><p> </p><p>yves wishes she would had said yes.</p><p> </p><p>minutes turn into seconds.</p><p>jungeun has stopped crying, though occasional sniffs punctuate the quiet night.</p><p>yves takes a deep breath. her scythe, shining silver in the blue moonlight, cuts its way into the space between their two bodies.</p><p>“it’s time.”</p><p>jungeun closes her eyes and inhales.</p><p>“okay.”</p><p>yves waits for jungeun to open her eyes again before giving a curt nod.</p><p>“okay.”</p><p>jungeun exhales, long and hard.</p><p> </p><p>it’s time.</p><p>yves raises her scythe high into the sky.</p><p>jungeun lets out a final humorless chuckle.</p><p>“goodbye, ms. rea—”</p><p>“yves.”</p><p>jungeun blinks, slow and pensive.</p><p>yves stares hard.</p><p>then, jungeun smiles.</p><p>“pretty.”</p><p>the blade swings downwards, straight into jungeun’s chest.</p><p>she feels the world shatter around her.</p><p>“goodbye, jungeun”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! this particular idea had been in my mind for awhile, and i'm glad to get it out in the open.</p><p>i'm on twitter/cc: @orangesorbet_</p></blockquote></div></div>
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